Two
by DieZivaDie
Summary: Sometimes a talent isn't such a talent after all. Oh, well! Pure crack. No pairings. Consider the source and enter at your own peril.


"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby hurtled across the lab, launching herself at the last minute into the senior supervisory agent's open arms in a blur of red, white and black all over.

Had it been anyone else, all of the various spikes, chains, and one hundred ten pounds of frantic Goth could have caused serious damage, yet Gibbs caught her easily and held on tight as he curiously peered over her shoulder into the shadowed corner.

Following close behind, Tim and Tony urgently raced into the room, their jackets flapping and their ties flying behind them. The two teammates stutter-stepped and then continued onward as a gauntleted hand popped up from where it had been clenching Gibbs' back to direct them towards the ballistics lab, reinforced a millisecond later by an eyebrow-raised, pointed nod from their boss. When they both skidded into the narrow doorway at the same time, Tim drew up suddenly and spun around, his face paling rapidly as his Adam's Apple highlighted his desperate and wholly unsuccessful attempt to control his rising gorge.

_"WHOA!"_ emitted from the ballistics lab over Tim's retching only for Tony to poke his head back out briefly to comment in amused amazement, "Nice shot, Abs!" As Abby preened with a smug grin for Gibbs, the Senior Field Agent turned his head to frown in disappointment at his junior agent. "Timmy, get a grip! This isn't the first time you've seen brain splatter. Heck, I had my partner's on my face while still recovering from the Plague and didn't lose my shit like you are."

"Not all of us are narcissists like you, Tony," Tim gagged out.

The waggling finger only added to Tim's nausea as Tony corrected, "Not a narcissist, Timmy. Ducky says I'm the one with empathy. Unlike you and..." He peered over his shoulder with a speculative look, turned to grin brightly at Tim again and added, "Only you!"

Ignoring his two remaining agents, Gibbs gently grasped Abby's upper arms. He held the vibrating Goth at arm's length to resignedly inquire, "How many Caf-Pows have you had today?"

Glancing furtively at the 36 ounce cups littering her lab, Abby dropped her eyes and mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Gibbs dipped his head to ask sternly.

Abby's eyes slid up to meet his for a moment before skittering away. "I beat the record," she admitted. "By a lot."

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Gibbs sighed deeply before guiding Abby to a stool. He squatted low enough to maintain eye contact and then gently ordered Abby, "Start from the beginning and don't leave anything out."

With a nod, Abby gesticulated wildly with the occasionally recognizable sign as she explained, "Okay. Well, since we suddenly became best friends since the beginning of this season to try to make Ziva more popular around here, we were hanging out together since there was nothing going on upstairs and Ziva told me she wanted to be on "America Is Tricksie", since she's a citizen now and stuff and I asked her what her talent was and she said she could catch a bullet in her teeth so I googled the show and they're having auditions in Norfolk which is only a few minutes from here except when it's really, like, four hours away and I asked her to show me and she figured she could use the practice anyways since she hasn't done it since she and Michael Rivkin used to do it for foreplay or something weird, I don't remember, there was a squirrel in the window at the time and he was so cute the way he was stuffing his face with the popcorn I left out there during lunch, and so she got ready and I shot the bullet, but she didn't catch it, Gibbs!"

"Oh, she caught it alright!" Tony grinned from where he had parked himself next to Abby. "Hey!" He rubbed the back of his head petulantly with a muted glare at his boss.

As he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a hankie, Tim joined them to beg, "Abby, please tell me you have proof she made you shoot at her."

Abby scowled at Tim before informing Gibbs, "I got it all on video." She shrugged. "My momma didn't raise no fools. I know it's really a wax bullet when magicians do it." She added softly to herself, "What I want to know is where the tigers and bunnies come from." Then, indignantly confronting Gibbs head on, Abby heatedly insisted, "If she wants to think she's a superstar and break all of the rules, who am I to stop her? I was tired of her complaining how she works with all men and never has a chance to be 'girlie', ignoring that I am right here, so I shot her."

Wrapping an arm around Abby, Tony snuggled close with a squeeze, enjoying the way his best friend melted into him. "I love you, Abs!"

"Hey, what about me?" Tim snaked an arm around her as well and leaned in for a hug.

"Wow, Timmy!" Abby complained as she recoiled away from the junior agent. "Mint!"

Pushing Tim away, Tony ordered. "Back off, McBarfbag! Your breath stinks."

"I only have one question," Abby interjected. "Who's gonna clean my ballistics lab?"

They all stared at Abby for a long moment before, with a flash of realization, Tony frantically disengaged a hand and placed his pointer finger on the tip of his nose to match Abby's. His mouth opening and closing in astonishment, Tim looked towards his boss for support only to receive a taciturn glare in reply.

"Ziva doesn't have a nose to point to, Timmy, but that doesn't matter any more!" Abby giggled.

With a slump to the shoulders, Tim turned to go in search of Ducky...

..and a mop...

..and, as he cupped a hand over his mouth and huffed only for his stomach to lurch unhappily, a mint.

Most definitely a mint.


End file.
